Burning Ashes
by Stelra Etnae
Summary: The children of a great man struggle to recover from the deaths of their father and brothers, and silently watch over the brother that they couldn't bear to lose as well. (Whitebeard Pirates, featuring Marco, Vista, Haruta, Izo, Jozu and other Commanders) Post-Marineford


_**Oh dear, my muse has been awfully melancholy lately.**_

**Summary: The children of a great man struggle to recover from the deaths of their father and brothers, and silently watch over the brother that they couldn't bear to lose as well.**

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_Legend says that in times of great change, the phoenix will appear to mark the beginning of a new era._

A bird's cry, shrill and eerie, rang through the night. The mournful sound echoed over the rippling black waters, chilling all listeners to the bone. Nothing else could be heard but the crash of the waves, in the night so dark that even the stars had forsaken the sky. In the all-consuming darkness, only a flash of blue fire illuminated the sky, but even that blue lacked its former brilliance, swallowed by the black. The bird cried out again, with more sorrow than was thought possible.

A slim figure, standing on the deck of a ship looking out to sea, shivered and turned to her taller companion. "Can't we do anything?" The voice, hoarse and desperate, pleaded. She wanted to shut her eyes, shut her ears, yet could not, because it would mean shutting herself in her own mind, which knew too well what fueled the phoenix's sorrow.

The dark-haired man sighed, his eyes not leaving the burning blue shape in the sky. He didn't reply. Both of them knew what the answer would be.

The only man who could have pulled that person back from where he had gone was no longer here. And they, as they were, had no power to do anything. All they could do was to wait, wait for him to come back from where he had gone.

The cries had morphed into a song of mourning. The phoenix lamented the loss of a great man and his sons, the dying embers of an incomparable era. The phoenix cried too, for a father, who had loved them all unconditionally, the only man who had done so. All those who heard the song remembered that man and his strong scar-free back that had protected them and that they had followed without a single shred of doubt.

The bird glided in smooth circles through the air, sometimes disappearing into the clouds which further shadowed its blue light. Their eyes followed its almost hypnotizing movement, seeking it out in the darkness. Their hearts were deprived of light, and its brilliance was like a beacon, yet so far away that their heart ached all the more.

Once, just once, it dipped lower, the very tip of its claws skimming the waters.

It looked too easy, much too easy, for it to simply sink a tiny bit lower and fall into the embrace of the sea. The onlookers tensed, gripping the railing with hands fast going numb. They knew without a doubt that they would be able to save him from the water but they could not save him from drowning in his own emotions, and the moment he entered the water, he would already have gone to somewhere no one could follow.

But after a mere seconds that nevertheless felt too long, the bird's wings once again brought it back to the clouds, away from the tantalizing depths.

The first speaker shuddered again, wrapping her arms around her as if to ward off a chill, and cast her gaze behind her so that he wouldn't have to watch the seas. But the ship reminded her of another, much bigger ship. And that was just as painful, if not more so.

It brought back memories of a tall, strong man standing even in death; a young man with a flaming hole in his chest; another man collapsed in a pool of his own blood. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see anything, but behind her dropped eyelids she could still see bright red blood on cold bodies much, much too vividly.

She took in a deep ragged breath and cast another desperate glance at her companion.

"Can't we-"

"Haruta." His voice cut across her question. "Go to sleep."

Her eyebrows furrowed, her distress temporarily overridden by annoyance. "Don't treat me like a child, Vista."

"I'm not treating you like a child. You're obviously tired, so you need to rest." Vista sighed, sitting down cross-legged on the deck and waving the girl over. A little sullenly, Haruta moved to his side and sat down. Vista shifted her so that her head was resting on his thigh. He draped one of the blankets that he had prepared over her slim form. "Sleep."

He watched her stubbornly stay awake for several minutes, but soon her eyes drifted close, exhaustion finally taking over. Gently, so that he didn't wake her, he smoothed a hand over her hair, a caress that she wouldn't have allowed if she was conscious.

Haruta was the second youngest – no, youngest now again – of the commanders. Barely more than a child, to Vista at least, she brought out all the protective feelings from within him, especially after all that happened just a scant few days ago. She was so stubborn, insisting on joining him on this night watch when he knew that she was both physically and emotionally exhausted. She had been among those who had taken the deaths of their father and brothers the hardest.

Not one of them had been unaffected by the loss. Broken, they had needed someone to piece them together. Marco had done his best to do just that. But in the process, he had forgotten himself. So as they slowly healed, he slowly crumbled behind his façade.

The decision had been unanimous, that Marco would be the one to lead them. They knew that their Oyaji wouldn't have wanted anything different. Eyes still wet with tears, he had taken charge fluidly, guiding the crew to leave that cursed battlefield and back towards the New World. He had stood confidently before their men, the strong figure that they needed. Not once, after that brief bout right after the war, had he cried.

But those shoulders, strong as they were, could not carry both the weight of grief and the responsibility that had once been settled on much wider shoulders. His physical wounds had healed instantly, leaving him without any injury unlike the others. But they knew, without a doubt, that even a phoenix's power of regeneration could not heal the scarring wounds of loss.

Under his guidance, the ships were steered to a desolated part of the New World, far away from the sight and sound of any islands. It was an area they knew few ships, if any, traversed.

There, he had fallen apart.

They took the night watch, not for fear of enemies, but to watch over him. At the present moment, far from anyone else, their only enemy was grief. It was the greatest enemy they had ever faced and something deep within them whispered darkly that it was an enemy that they could not defeat. They pushed it aside, calling it traitor.

He shifted his gaze back out to sea, following the phoenix's movements with his eyes. A short while later, the sound of footsteps alerted him to the arrival of someone from below deck. Vista didn't turn, knowing from the swish of rustling silk that it was Izo. The man silently came to his side, staring out at sea as well.

Silence settled between them, broken only by the gentle crash of the waves against the sides of the ship and the soulful birdsong.

Haruta let out a whimper and suddenly she shot up, her whole form shaking. Vista quickly took the girl into her arms to reassure her, and he felt the wetness of her cheek that soaked through his shirt.

"Oyaji…" she gasped out shakily, her hands clutching desperately at the front of Vista's shirt, bunching it up. Izo gently ran a hand up and down Haruta's back in a calming motion, murmuring gentle reassurances while Vista tightened his hold on her as if to remind her that they weren't going to leave.

Partly, he also wanted to reassure himself that she wasn't going to disappear as well.

Haruta's sobs slowed into soft hiccups, but she kept her face buried in his shoulder. "I'm not a child."

Even with his heavy heart, Vista had to smile a little at the girl's belligerent tone.

"No one said you were."

The mood lightened, the utter normalcy of this exchange for a brief moment overwhelming their grief. But Vista knew that a deeper, darker meaning lurked behind Haruta's insistence that she was not a child.

He recalled with a wave of wistfulness how Thatch would often banter with Haruta, calling her a kid and teasing her mercilessly. But then there were also the times when Thatch would run around the deck with a laughing Haruta on his back, and evenings when Thatch would cut an extra-large slice of her favorite apple pie when dessert was being passed around. Haruta called all of them her brothers, but they knew that Thatch was the only one whom she sometimes slipped and called 'Onii-chan', though she would never willingly admit it.

No one would ever again call Haruta a child in that teasing manner. Only one person had that right, and he was no longer here.

A heavier thud of footsteps than before sounded on the wooden deck. Just like with Izo, Vista knew exactly who it was – they were so attuned to each other's presence that they knew instinctively where each was. And it was that same connection that made the feel the loss all the greater.

"Jozu. You should be resting. You're wounded."

"If you're telling me to go back below deck, forget it, Vista." Jozu was unyielding, coming to sit at Izo's side. "See, I'll be sitting down. Nothing strenuous at all. Even Doc can't find any fault in this." He stared out at the waters and continued in a much softer tone. "And how could I sleep, at a time like this?"

"None of us could."

Knowing that Izo meant more than just the four of them, Vista cast his eyes to the ship floating parallel to theirs. He saw the faint outline of a large figure sitting on the deck like they were doing, facing towards the blue shape that was the only illumination in the inky night. A shift of revealed a smaller figure by his side, and soon they were joined by a third. And he knew without looking that there would be four figures huddled together on the deck of the third and last ship.

The thirteen of them sat together that night in the darkness, missing the warmth of the two others that should have been with them, mourning the loss of the man they called father. They would keep watch over that distant blue figure for as long as they needed, until that man returned to their side.

And so they waited, hoping that he would remember that he wasn't alone; that he still had all of them, just like they still had each other. Because two people missing from the sixteen was already too much.

They couldn't bear to lose him too.

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The sun rose slowly from the horizon, shining the first glimmers of light onto the dark ocean. And as the warm light reached for them, so did that blue light.

Izo was the first to notice, and his cry snapped all of them out of their drowsy states. They watched, wide-eyed, as the majestic blue bird swooped above their heads, circling around the three ships before settling on the mast on the one Vista was on, next to the familiar black flag that flapped open in the breeze. From the height, they saw him watching him, and they met that sharp gaze with no hesitation; hoping, reassuring.

When the bird leapt from its perch and hurtled down to the deck, they were all there, ready to catch the human figure that collapsed into their arms.

And they were suddenly all crying; crying and smiling at the same time, because faintly over the sound of the sea, they could hear the rumbling laugh of a great man, and the teasing chuckle and loud snores of their brothers. They may no longer be with them in body, but they would always remain by their side and in their hearts.

It took more than death to break a bond built on love.

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_**I hope you liked it, and please do leave a review to let me know what you think of this story. Thanks for reading!**_

_**PS: Have you read the latest manga chapter? I'm just completely stunned by the latest developments, it's been such a roller-coaster of a journey. Oda is amazing. What did you think of it? Share your thoughts with me, I'm really curious. :D**_


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